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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162985">Hank's Tire and Lube</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher'>Reis_Asher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe, Android Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Blow Jobs, Caught, Gay Hank Anderson, Happy Ending, Journalist Connor, M/M, Mechanic Hank Anderson, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162985</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is an investigative journalist writing a piece on shady garages. Hank is the last honest mechanic in Detroit. When Connor takes his car in expecting a hefty bill, sparks fly between him and Hank, and he finds himself exploring a whole new angle he hadn't considered before.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hank's Tire and Lube</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: Trans Connor, terms used are dick, slit, hole. Rough sex, car sex, under the desk blowjobs, Connor being so horny he abandons his wits. Nothing too heavy theme-wise in this - just a whole lot of lust.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor checked his internal chronometer as he pulled into Hank's Tire and Lube. It was the last garage on his list to investigate for the article he was writing, and he hoped this one might house Detroit's last honest mechanic.</p>
<p>His mood had soured after the last shop had told him he needed a laundry list of parts in his 2035 model Ford. The auto-driving car barely had 50k on the clock, and his hired experts had poured over the car, creating a reasonable estimate of what a skilled mechanic might find wrong with it, and inserting an obvious problem that was nothing more than a rag stuffed in a wheel bearing. The last few garages had taken one look at Connor's fresh face and assumed he knew nothing about anything, giving him estimates for thousands of dollars' worth of maintenance the car didn't need.</p>
<p>They certainly didn't know he was an android, capable of detecting their heart rate, stress level, and rate of perspiration as they told lie after lie, weaving elaborate stories about defects that could kill. Connor was disgusted with the ease at which human beings could lie. The article had definitely changed his perspective on human beings for the worse, which was a shame. He was just starting to put the events of the 2038 revolution behind him and believe humans were better than those desperate days had led him to wonder.</p>
<p>Connor got out of the car and wandered into the grimy little office. There was no receptionist, just a messy desk with a brown jacket slung over the back of the chair. A mug half-full of cold coffee sat on the surface, surrounded by coffee rings. Dirty fingers had clearly used the mouse, and the antiquated, yellowed-plastic computer complete with CRT monitor made Connor smirk. The computing power of this thing made smartphones look like supercomputers. It was like looking at an abacus, and Connor wondered where on Earth a human found such a relic, let alone used it in their daily work.</p>
<p>"Hey there." A deep, yet friendly voice startled Connor. Connor spun around on his heel. There, towering over him (which was no small feat), was an absolute mountain of a man. Grey hair tumbled down the sides of his head, partially covered by a grease-stained Detroit Gears baseball cap. His facial hair was well trimmed, but he'd clearly brushed up against something dirty. His overalls wore a patch that said "Hank", and they were unzipped half way down his chest, showing off his chest hair and ample belly. The overalls were a size too tight, and Connor was embarrassed when he realized his eyes had strayed to Hank's crotch, the material leaving very little to the imagination. "Can I help you?"</p>
<p>Connor wouldn't need to play the fool here, like he had at the other garages. His processors were already working overtime as Hank managed a toothy grin. He was struggling to keep up with all the unexpected effects this attractive man was having on him.</p>
<p>"My car is having some problems," Connor managed, reciting the script he'd memorized. "I'm getting a weird noise when I reach around fifty-five miles per hour."</p>
<p>Hank nodded. "How about we take it out for a spin, see what's going on?" Hank led the way out of the office, and Connor was just as happy to see the overalls hugged Hank's ass. It was a nice sight to keep in mind as they headed to the car.</p>
<p>Hank gestured to the car. "Can you pop the hood for me?"</p>
<p>Connor obliged. Hank lifted the hood, propping it up as he leaned inside, and Connor watched him work with complete fascination. Hank's brow furrowed. "Nothin' really stands out, but I won't know until I get it up on the lift. Let's go for a drive and see if that tells us anything."</p>
<p>"Is it okay to leave the garage?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"Oh, Cole's in the back." Hank shrugged. "I'm a little grease-stained. Maybe I should change out of these overalls. I don't wanna dirty up your ride… what was your name again?"</p>
<p>"Connor," Connor stated. "You would be Hank, I'm assuming?" He expected a snarky response, but Hank simply nodded. "You don't need to change on my account." He imagined Hank going into a back room and slipping out of those overalls. He realized he wouldn't mind Hank servicing him.</p>
<p>He was getting way too far into his character. He wasn't actually supposed to <em>become</em> the pretty himbo mechanics took advantage of, but Hank made him feel like a fool without doing anything beyond offering basic courtesy. He was an investigative journalist, not a sex model, and it was humiliating to be so overwhelmed by his basic lust for Hank and his… tools. He'd been built as an advanced detective model, but never deployed in the field. He'd woken up during the revolution to find himself on route to the Detroit Police Department, too late to investigate why androids were becoming deviant. Markus' hand on his face was the first thing he remembered, and from there it was fire and death until morning.</p>
<p>All those millions of dollars spent, and here he was, drooling like a lower life form over a sweaty, greasy mechanic with a big belly and some chest hair. It would be jarring to find he'd lost his objectivity for the sake of his sexual functions. He considered himself above that. His readers relied on him for truthful, honest reporting.</p>
<p>Hank moved the driver's seat back and climbed in. He almost hit his head, and the small car looked ridiculous with him at the helm. His head almost touched the ceiling, and even with the seat all the way back, his belly brushed up against the steering wheel. Connor wanted to be that steering wheel, pressed against Hank's gut. The snappers on his overalls seemed to be straining a little, and Connor wished they'd pop and let a little more of Hank spill out.</p>
<p>Speaking of spilling out, Connor was getting pretty lubed up himself. He'd installed his own android genital parts, having being built without them. He wished Hank did android work on the side, like some mechanics did. He'd like to have this man's big hands rooting around in his internals, testing his sexual functions.</p>
<p>The knock-knock-knock sound the car made barely even registered on his sensors.</p>
<p>Hank sighed. "Could be a wheel bearing. That'd suck for a car this new."</p>
<p>"How much is it likely to cost?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"Dunno, until I can confirm that's what it is. Could be a grand, but we'll figure something out. Let's go back to the shop. I'll take the car apart and give you an estimate of what it'll cost. Free of charge."</p>
<p>"T-Thanks." No other garage in town had diagnosed anything free of charge. They'd expected Connor to pay simply for the privilege of looking at the vehicle.</p>
<p>They arrived back at the garage. Hank pulled the car into the bay and raised it up on the lift.</p>
<p>"You don't gotta stand there like a lost puppy. The office isn't too glamorous, but there's some reading material on the desk. Some in the bathroom, too, if that's what you like." He grinned, and Connor continued to stare blankly ahead. He wasn't sure what Hank meant by that, but resolved to check out the bathroom anyway, despite the fact he didn't need to use them.</p>
<p>Connor left Hank to his work and wandered into the office, trying to clear his head. A young mechanic with blond hair and blue eyes offered Connor a shy smile as he entered. The patch on his overalls said "Cole". Cole opened the door to the garage and poked his head in.</p>
<p>"Dad, I'm heading to class," Cole yelled. "See you later, okay?"</p>
<p>"Take care," Hank said. "Don't stay out too late. I'm gonna need your help this weekend with the DPD patrol cars."</p>
<p>"I know." Cole waved to Connor before lowering his voice. "Relax a little. You're in good hands. There's no better mechanic in Detroit than my dad, I promise you."</p>
<p>The reason for Connor's awkward pose in the orange plastic chair had nothing to do with worrying about the car, and everything to do with the fact that he'd acted inappropriately. He nodded, and watched Cole leave with a heavy thirium pump. Hank had a son. Probably a wife waiting for him at home. He was an honest man, making a living with his own small business and helping his son get through college. The American Dream in action.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Connor was a freelance investigative journalist trying to write a hit piece, while simultaneously wishing he could get in Hank's overalls. He'd never been ashamed of his work or his demeanor before, but he was now. The noise itself was a trick—a rag stuffed in the wheel to see if any mechanic would come clean. What did he expect from Hank? For him to find the cloth, tell Connor it was okay, and send him on his way for no charge or a nominal fee? It felt like fraud. It <em>was</em> fraud.</p>
<p>Connor questioned the entire nature of his piece. He might not have been fair when devising this scheme. His editor had liked the idea, but the more Connor thought about it, the more he worried the whole thing was mean-spirited.</p>
<p>He decided to go to the bathroom, just for a moment to compose himself. The single toilet left a lot to be desired, but it wasn't dirty, just old. The seat was stained, and the handle for the flusher looked like it had been rigged to work, but it was serviceable.</p>
<p>The basket of magazines had a piece of paper that said 18+ on the front. That got Connor's attention. He reached down and pulled out a magazine, his eyes widening as he realized it was an adult periodical with a handsome man on the front. Flipping through it, Connor realized it was a softcore gay pornographic android magazine. A particularly well-fingered page with a dried-up stain in the middle of it showed an android, naked, freckles all over his face and body, and a face just like Connor's. His skin was partially drawn back around his erect dick, revealing his plastic undercarriage. Connor knew some of the other RK800 models had gone into sex work after the revolution, but he was surprised to see one with his own eyes.</p>
<p>So Hank knew what he was, at least—and if this stain was his, well, perhaps Connor had a chance of getting to know him better. He emerged from the bathroom, trying to put the stain from his mind. He'd wanted to analyze it, but he'd lived amongst humans long enough to know that licking a man's semen stain off of a dirty magazine would be considered creepy.</p>
<p>Connor sat himself back down on the orange plastic chair, glad he had the office to himself. He'd never been this aroused, and he felt like anyone within a hundred yards of him would know he was lusting heavily, his hole aching for penetration.</p>
<p>The door opened, jerking Connor from his reverie. Hank wore a smile, triumphantly holding up the oil-stained rag like it was a briefcase holding a million dollars. "God, Connor, you'll never believe what it was. This stupid rag was lodged in your wheel! Someone musta dropped it when servicing your car. Or somethin'. Either way, there's nothing wrong with your car. I've got her buttoned up and ready to go."</p>
<p>"How much do I owe you?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>"Oh, nothin', nothin'!" Hank waved his hands. "You don't owe me a dime."</p>
<p>"I took up an hour of your time, Hank. That demands compensation."</p>
<p>"The pleasure was mine." Hank grinned. "Your model, that's a rare one. Don't see too many of you around."</p>
<p>"I was the next-to-last prototype developed before CyberLife went out of business," Connor explained. "There were only ten of us created."</p>
<p>"Sorry." Hank glanced away, his face reddening. "My son's a bit of an android enthusiast. I'm not so good with computers, but I always thought the RK800 was just… perfect."</p>
<p>"Thank you," Connor said, choosing to take it as a compliment. "You must let me pay you for your time."</p>
<p>"You could pay me by comin' back," Hank smirked. "Any time you have a problem, I'm happy to help you out."</p>
<p><em>I have a problem now</em>, Connor thought, but he didn't voice the thought out loud. His preconstruction program, designed to piece together complex crime scenes, instead forged a scenario where he paid Hank by getting down on his knees and sucking his cock.</p>
<p>Instead, Connor nodded. "It was nice meeting you, Hank. I'll be sure to stop back again." He left, regretting the fact all the way home that he didn't make an indecent proposal to Hank. Something told him Hank would have said yes, but he wasn't bold enough to take that step.</p>
<p>Besides, the story. It wasn't right to sleep with Hank and then praise his business. People would find out. He'd be exposed as a cheap hack, bought off for sex. It would harm Hank's reputation and his own.</p>
<p>He went back to his lonely apartment and drank a thirium based beverage. He was about to go into stasis for the night when a message came in from his editor.</p>
<p>
  <em>"We're dropping the mechanic story. A big scandal broke at City Hall. The mayor himself has been implicated in a massive corruption story involving organized crime. I'm afraid we're no longer interested in your piece."</em>
</p>
<p>Connor canceled his stasis. Something was wrong. Had his editor discovered his little crush on Hank? Had Hank figured out who he was and filed a complaint? For some reason, he'd been dropped like a hot potato, and he wanted to know why.</p>
<p>A quick web search revealed everything he needed to know. The garage he'd visited before Hank's Tire and Lube was partially owned by the editor of the newspaper he'd been trying to sell the story to. No doubt they'd put the pieces together and realized Connor wasn't going to write a good review.</p>
<p>He was a fool to miss something that obvious. The entire thing had been a waste of time and money, and he was unlikely to find another buyer for a piece with such a local focus.</p>
<p>He decided to go for a drive, as he often did when his stress levels rose. He'd watch Detroit from the windows as the car did the driving, the city full of life as androids and humans mingled as one. Most people didn't even recognize Connor as an android any more. In some ways, that was good, but in a strange sense he'd liked being seen by Hank. He'd felt as naked as the RK800 in the magazine, but that was better than burying himself beneath layers of lies and half-truths, afraid people might find out and be shocked that he was an android.</p>
<p>The car pulled into Hank's Tire and Lube and Connor acknowledged that he'd programmed it to come here. The lights were on, even this late, the open sign still twinkling in the window. Connor climbed out of the vehicle and wandered into the office. Hank sat at the computer, his overalls off and down around his waist. His bare chest and stomach hung out now that Hank realized he was alone. Hank looked up when Connor entered, a small grin forming on his face.</p>
<p>"I'd say we're closed, but I think you know that. Did something happen to the car?"</p>
<p>"No." Connor said. "I came to apologize, I think."</p>
<p>"You think? What do you have to apologize for?"</p>
<p>"I was testing you," Connor confessed. "I'm a journalist. I was writing a hit piece on local garages, but it got canceled. I think that was for the best."</p>
<p>"A shame. I think you would have given me an A." Hank grinned, and Connor realized he'd known all along. "I've been around the block a few times. I know when someone is tryin' to make a car sound broken. It's all right, though. I have an apology of my own to make."</p>
<p>"Hank?"</p>
<p>"I thought you were doin' it because you were interested in me. I was feeling some vibes coming from you. Must have been wishful thinking." Hank's chair creaked as he leaned back. "I'm sorry if I came across as inappropriate. Seeing you for real… it was a lot."</p>
<p>"I'm not the android in the magazine." Connor's simulated blush came on, hot and bright. "I'm flattered you think so, but we're all different."</p>
<p>"Somehow I knew that. You're too shy to be posin' for centerfolds." Hank swallowed. "Anyway, I'm willin' to forgive if you are. I didn't mean to come onto you like some old pervert."</p>
<p>"That's a shame," Connor whispered, giving into his desires. It didn't matter now. There was no story. There was no reason to hold back on being the slut he so badly wanted to be in Hank's presence. "My real reason for coming back here was to compensate you for today." He circled the desk, closing in on Hank and tearing open the last few snappers on his overalls that went down to the crotch. Hank was naked underneath, and somehow Connor realized he'd wanted that all along.</p>
<p>"Woah," Hank gasped. His dick tumbled out, already stiffening as it hit the air. It was huge even flaccid, and Connor's saliva-producing biocomponents were working overtime at the thought of it in his mouth. "This isn't some seduction for the paper, is it? Out me as a letcher to sink my business?"</p>
<p>"No," Connor hissed. "I was attracted to you the very first moment that I saw you." He dropped to his knees, fondling Hank's cock with his left hand while he buried his face in Hank's thick stomach. He smelled like sweat and oil, a heady combination, and Connor couldn't resist licking his skin to take a sample for analysis. He moved down, running his tongue up the length of Hank's magnificent shaft, admiring the feel of thick veins standing out. He was uncut, and Connor drew back his foreskin, tasting Hank's head like the precome pooling on the tip was a fine wine.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't care if you were at this point," Hank confessed. "I wanna come in your mouth so fuckin' badly."</p>
<p>Red and blue lights shone outside, signaling a police car in the vicinity.</p>
<p>"Fuck!" Hank cursed. "Get under the desk. They've come to drop off the squad cars that need to be fixed. It'll only be a minute." He pulled his overalls up, putting his arms in the sleeves and doing up the top snappers to make himself look presentable, while still giving Connor access to his genitals.</p>
<p>Connor did as he was told, but he didn't stop using his mouth on Hank's dick. As the door opened, he sank his mouth onto Hank's erection, taking him down to the balls.</p>
<p>"Hey, Chris." Hank's voice sounded strained, and Connor redoubled his efforts, unhinging his jaw so he could lick and suck Hank's balls while keeping his cock lodged in his throat. The hairy sack was bliss in his mouth, soft and musky as he tongued it and sucked on each ball individually.</p>
<p>"Here's the keys for number 2. Ben is gonna bring 3 over when he's finished with the night shift." Connor heard keys land on the desk above him and started to move on Hank's dick.</p>
<p>"That's good," Hank hissed.</p>
<p>"You all right, Hank?" Chris asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah, just strained my back a bit. No big deal. Your cars will be done on schedule."</p>
<p>"I know. You've never let us down." Chris left, his exit signaled by the sound of the door closing. Connor heard a car pulling away, and then Hank's rough hands cupped his face.</p>
<p>"I damn near lost it, Connor. I almost came in front of my old friend from the police academy. Is that what you wanted?"</p>
<p>Connor nodded. Hank stopped him from moving and eased his head back. Hank's dick fell from Connor's mouth, and he wondered if he'd gone too far.</p>
<p>"If you went to the police academy, why aren't you a cop?" Connor asked.</p>
<p>Hank shrugged. "I failed the psych eval. I'm gay, Connor, in case you hadn't noticed. That's not a problem these days, but it was back then."</p>
<p>"You have a son."</p>
<p>"I had a short lived marriage when I was in denial. Cole was the best thing that came out of it." Hank stood up, and Connor climbed him, desperate to tear the overalls off his body. Hank grabbed him and pulled Connor into a crushing kiss, thrusting his tongue into Connor's mouth as far as he could. Connor returned the kiss with equal fervor. He'd wanted Hank to come in his mouth, but now he realized that wasn't nearly enough. He wanted Hank to rail him, fuck him over the desk like he was some cheap pretty thing trying to pay off a debt he couldn't afford.</p>
<p>Hank was having the same thought, by the looks of it. He thrust his hand down Connor's pants, his thick fingers finding his slit and rubbing at his little dick. Connor melted like putty, his legs unable to support his weight as Hank teased him. He rested his weight entirely on Hank, moaning as Hank played, and he knew he could come just like this.</p>
<p>Hank had other ideas, though. He withdrew his hand, unbuckling Connor's belt and forcing his pants down. Connor leaned on the desk with his legs spread as Hank sank to his knees and began to tongue at his slit. His beard was sublime, wiry hair caressing Connor's sensitive folds. If Hank was bothered by the fact that Connor had different genitalia to the android in the magazine, he didn't show it, consuming Connor like a thirsty man drinking at the oasis. He teased Connor's dick with his lips and tongue as Connor's fingers clawed the desk, leaving finger-shaped imprints in the soft plywood.</p>
<p>"Hank!" Connor threw his head back. He'd never felt anything like this in his limited sexual experience. He let it happen, and was surprised when he squirted, spraying liquid all over Hank's face and overalls. Hank looked up at him with a dripping face and wanton smirk that made Connor want to go again.</p>
<p>His hole still ached. He wanted penetration.</p>
<p>"Fuck me, Hank. Please," Connor whined. He didn't care that he was a disheveled mess on Hank's desk, his pride in tatters.</p>
<p>"I dunno," Hank teased, wiping his face. "I think you've paid me enough for my services today. How will I charge you next time?"</p>
<p>Connor was almost feral, driven by some force he couldn't explain. "Don't make me rip out every tube and piece of wiring in my car. I'll do it."</p>
<p>"You'd sabotage your vehicle just to get railed by me? Come on, an android like you has to get tons of action. Just look at you. You're goddamn <em>perfect</em>."</p>
<p>"Speak for yourself," Connor gasped, reaching for Hank's cock. It was still stiff as iron, leaking from the tip. "You're huge."</p>
<p>"Well, thank you," Hank grinned, "but I think we're gonna attract too much suspicion if we leave the office lights on too much longer. How about we go into the garage? I've got a project car I'm working on, a 1988 Oldsmobile with back seats big enough to fuck on." He led Connor through the door, clicking off the office light. The garage lights were lower, but illuminated the area well. The Oldsmobile sat in the back, doors open. Connor didn't even take his shirt or pants off, but leaned over the back seat with his knees on the ground beside the vehicle, leaving his hole pointing up for easy access.</p>
<p>"You're a little slut, Connor," Hank joked. "I can imagine you paying for all your purchases like this. I mean, who could refuse?"</p>
<p>"Maybe I should start," Connor hissed.</p>
<p>"I'd rather have an exclusive deal with you, though I imagine you'd look spectacular getting fucked every which way. I'd pay to watch that."</p>
<p>"Something tells me you have."</p>
<p>"The real thing is so much better." Hank rubbed his dick against Connor's slit, coating himself in slick. Connor felt like he was oozing with it, like Hank had triggered some malfunction that had turned him into a crazy, cock-loving sex android, but if so, he didn't want to find the off switch.</p>
<p>Hank eased into him, slowly at first. Connor felt himself stretching to accommodate Hank's girth, and wished he could see his own hole stretched around Hank. Hank buried himself all the way inside and started to thrust. Connor gripped the upholstery, struggling to hold on as Hank fucked him hard, each stroke filling him to capacity. It was so much that all he could do was gasp and moan, reduced to nothing more than a sex doll, a hole for Hank's pleasure.</p>
<p>Connor wasn't sure who was paying who at this point, because he wanted this more than he'd ever known he could. He lived for Hank's labored groans, his own pleasure building to a crescendo far sooner than he'd anticipated.</p>
<p>"Hank, Hank, fuck…" Connor came, squeezing Hank's cock as he spasmed involuntarily. Hank let out a deep bellow as he blew his load, collapsing and pressing his full weight onto Connor in the back seat. Connor wished he were face up so he could be smothered by that huge belly, but it was enough to be pinned down by Hank's mass.</p>
<p>Hank recovered, pulling free and climbing out of the back of the car. Connor slipped to the ground, no longer sure he was capable of higher thought. Hank wiped himself down with a clean rag, then used a fresh one on Connor. Connor let himself be helped, wondering if he'd ever be able to take care of himself again. Something had short-circuited, he was certain of it.</p>
<p>"You all right, Connor?" Hank's blue eyes conveyed concern as he helped Connor to sit on the back seat. He knelt down in front of him, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I didn't damage you, did I?"</p>
<p>"No, I don't think so." Connor smiled, buoyed by Hank's tender care. "It was an intense experience, but a good one."</p>
<p>"Thanks for indulging me in a fantasy," Hank whispered. "Honestly, I'd like it to be more than that, but I think that would be pushing my luck."</p>
<p>"I'm looking for a new job," Connor explained. "Freelance journalism isn't paying off. I thought my design lent itself to investigative work, but I'm a poor liar."</p>
<p>"You could work here," Hank said. "I've been needing someone to keep the books, take calls, help out with appointments. I'm bad at all that. Cole helps out, but he's almost finished college. He's gonna get hired by some big corporation, and then he won't have time to help Dad with the books. I wouldn't wanna keep him tied down here. The West Coast is calling him to bigger and better things."</p>
<p>Connor blinked. "I'm happy to accept, but I have to ask you a question. Do you have a fantasy about having sex with your secretary, Hank?"</p>
<p>"Not yet I don't," Hank grinned, "but I think that could be arranged. I hope you like pantyhose, Connor. I have a hell of an imagination, and I'm willin' to bet you do, too."</p>
<p>"It's not bad," Connor whispered, his systems preconstructing a dozen scenarios in which Hank railed him over the desk after hours.</p>
<p>It wasn't what he'd been designed for—just as Hank clearly hadn't intended to be a mechanic—but he could make it work.</p>
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